


A Tree on a Hill

by chibiwriter



Category: Pokemon GO
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Bad Ending, Character Study, Floriography, Gen, If You Thought This Was A Game You Were WRONG, Implied/Referenced Character Death, No Spoilers Only Feelings, Symbolism, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibiwriter/pseuds/chibiwriter
Summary: “There is power in this one,” Noire crooned as they stood under their tree, grinning as they pressed their lips to its bark, “And if you swear a promise to it, it’s sure to come true. It has to be a secret promise, though!”“What, why?”“Because it’s a contract between you two. Don’t tell anyone and don’t break it - otherwise you’ll getcursed!”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [surfacage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surfacage/gifts).



> I tried something a little different with this. It's more in line with my academic writing, I guess - and by that, I mean have fun with this hot mess conglomeration of indiscriminate flashbacks, dialogue, and _symbolism_. The majority of this is speculation about the twin's past and a possible endgame for Ash that resembles a fever dream. 
> 
> AKA, take it with a grain of salt, yeah?
> 
> I do not own Syric - he is a Team Rocket OC with his own Facebook page. [Please go check him out](https://www.facebook.com/MedicSyric/)!  
> A big shout-out to my sister, [illysum](http://illysum.tumblr.com/), who was my ~~word gremlin~~ beta for this story.  
>  As always, please be sure to send [surfacage](http://www.surfacage.net/) all your love and support! ❤

When the twins had been rescued from the gutted cells of Orre, Sabrina personally took them to the forest on the north side of the city.

There was a single tree in the middle of a glen, slender but strong, the long branches reaching out and up, roots locking the trunk into place by shooting tendrils down into the exposed rocks and boulders to reach the soil underneath. The day was unseasonably warm for spring, the sun disappearing briefly behind a handful of fluffy clouds only to reappear a few moments later in a burst of brilliant light.

The three of them sat in the shade, eating a leisurely lunch. The twins sat close to one another, thighs touching, stealing bites from the other’s sandwich without much care. She sipped her tea, watching strands of silver-white hair dance in a gentle breeze.

“This tree is not native to this forest,” Blanche said suddenly, studying the leaves, “Is it?”

“No,” Sabrina admitted, inclining her head, “It was transplanted here many years ago.”

“Why?” Noire asked, shoving the last of their sandwich into their mouth, bits of bread flying everywhere. Blanche patted their back when they inevitably choked and handed them their water bottle, eyes never leaving the glittering green canopy above them.

“It was sick where it started growing. Not cared for in the way it should have been.”

Noire wrinkled their nose, wiping the crumbs off their shirt and onto the rocks. “Why’d it start growing there in the first place?”

Her eyes grew distant, sad. “People can make things happen even if nature would not want them to.”

Noire’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Blanche finally turned their gaze from the leaves onto her. She heard their thoughts and smiled, gently touching their mind like a caress, understanding when they recoiled slightly but surprised when they were willing to hear her out. They were definitely the more cautious twin, if not also the most curious - an odd combination that would likely get them into trouble later on.

‘ _Yes, I am talking about the two of you._ ’

‘ _You don’t have to wax so poetic. We understand more than you think._ ’

‘ _I know. In my defense, it was meant to be comforting._ ’

‘ _We don’t need comforting. We have each other._ ’

Sabrina let out a small breath, a mimicry of a laugh disguised as a sigh. “Today, you begin anew,” she said, carefully wiping a smear of grape jelly off Blanche’s cheek, “Like this tree, I see each of you growing strong with time.” She would not, of course, tell them what  _else_  it was she saw in their futures. That was a discussion for another day, perhaps, if ever.

Noire looked over at Blanche, grinning brightly, and Blanche returned the expression easily. They chased each other around the glen for some time after that, laughing as they sometimes slipped on the grass and rolled, limbs flying everywhere.

This place would be theirs, from now on.

 

[“What type of tree is it, anyway?”

“You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you, now would I?”

“Heh, just for that you’ll have to look it up yourself,  _mon chou_.”

“That’s not fair, Blanche! Hey, tell me already!”]

 

They came back several times, with and without permission. It was one of the reasons they each were taught how to drive at the earliest convenience.

Who knew you could learn how to hotwire a car online?

The first time one of them went alone, well, Sabrina had never seen Blanche so distraught, so panicked, as the day they couldn’t find their twin. They tore at their hair, tears streaming down their face as their body was wracked with tiny, anxious tremors. She, of course, knew exactly where to look, but refused to take Blanche with her.

And for good reason.

She found Noire sitting in front of the tree, facing it, knees up to their chest as they stared sightlessly at the bark. Red, white, and black shards glittered mockingly on the ground, dusk casting shadows all around the glen as the forest darkened in preparation of the approaching night. The rocks at the base of the tree had been disturbed, a small mound of dirt with a handful of wildflowers thrown on top bearing witness.

They, themselves, were covered in dirt and leaves, tears streaking down their cheeks with a smear of blood at the corner of their mouth, some crusted under their nose and splattered on their shirt.

“It was an accident,” they said, “I didn’t mean to. I just… wanted to catch it.”

Sabrina sighed and helped them back to the cars, one of her personal guards driving the one Noire had stolen as the two of them got into hers. The ride back was silent with one twin absent and other abnormally subdued. She knew what had happened, obviously, the memories bouncing around in Noire’s head loud and clear with guilt.

That poor Pokemon. It never stood a chance. 

“We don’t have to tell Blanche,” she said, glancing over at them, “If you don’t want to.”

Noire jerked out of their somber reflection, staring at her with wide green eyes. “What?”

She shrugged, looking out the window as her driver took them down a back way in case they were being followed. “You’re right. They’re upset that you left on your own,” she said, turning back to Noire, “But they’d be even more upset if you told them you lost control. That you… corrupted. Then, when you couldn't handle it, you had to kill the thing before it could do the same to you.”

Noire paled, swallowing harshly.

“Oh.” They ducked their head and picked at the frayed edges of their shirt, silent tears dripping down their nose. She held out a tissue and they took it slowly, not actually using it but holding it in their hand nevertheless.

“The choice is yours, of course. Normally I’d advise against secrecy, but, as this seems to have shaken some sense into you, I feel you can make the right decision. Know that you can always talk to me about this, Noire. I will understand.”

Noire nodded sullenly but remained silent. Sabrina cleaned them up as best she could before they arrived, wiping at their face with an extra tissue to get rid of most of the blood and dirt. Their tears expedited the process somewhat. They managed to shrug on the shirt she had brought without getting it too dirty – a small miracle, honestly.

Blanche greeted them at the entrance, running to and flinging themselves at their twin. They cried and pounded their fists on their chest, demanding to know where they had been. Noire just smiled, a new tightness around their eyes when they gave their explanation.

“I went to go catch a Caterpie. You said they don’t spawn here in the city, and I wanted to see if I could get one for you. I couldn’t, though, and didn’t want to come back because I thought you’d laugh. I’m sorry,  _mon petit chou_.”

It wasn’t the first lie they ever told their twin, but it was the first Blanche ever believed. Cracks formed in the foundation, and it would become easier with time.

 

The twins had snuck out and camped in the glen a few times after that. Sometimes it was for the sacred solitude the space provided – others, to mess with their guardians or escape from a particularly annoying lesson plan. Once, they’d even done it by faking their identities and taking public transport, just to see how long it would take for the grunts Sabrina had assigned to look after them to find them.

It took three days. Pathetic.

In the meantime, the twins found ways to keep themselves preoccupied.

Exploring was one – Blanche was absolutely fascinated by a group of freshwater Magikarp, hypothesizing that they might learn different attack sets from their saltwater cousins. They went on and on, voice lilting, bubbling like the stream where the fish Pokemon swam. The day was warm and sunny, light dappling from the between the leaves of the canopy to dance on the forest floor.

Noire hadn’t realized they’d drifted off until Blanche shoved them into the water.

The other way they entertained themselves was by sparring. Neither was completely proficient at the time, of course, but practice could only serve to make them better. Stronger. Noire preferred this method, their blood singing with every kick and punch and roll. It allowed them to see their twin more clearly, watch their passive face contort into cutely fierce expressions, skin flushed and breath heavy.

Blanche was better at punching and grappling, their form precise and poised, sharp as a blade. Noire had discovered their penchant for kicks and tackles, power overriding any desire for finesse. One went high, the other low. Perfectly in balance.

Together, they’d be unstoppable.

There were moments of levity, of course. Not all their childish nature had been stolen from them just yet.

“There is power in this one,” Noire crooned as they stood under their tree, grinning as they pressed their lips to its bark, “And if you swear a promise to it, it’s sure to come true. It has to be a secret promise, though!”

“What, why?”

“Because it’s a contract between you two. Don’t tell anyone and don’t break it - otherwise you’ll get  _cursed_!”

Blanche was hesitant, wrinkling their nose at the prospect, but they went along with the little ritual regardless.

They each took turns promising something to the tree, giggling with youthful enthusiasm. It was silly and stupid and they both relished such an inane task. Blanche tried to wheedle out their twin’s secret from them, teasing and foolhardy, even resorting to a tickle fight that had ultimately only filled their clothes with leaves and their hair with twigs.

Still, they’d each gone to bed with grins on their faces.

When the moon had risen, however, Blanche slipped out of the tent and crept up to the tree. Silver light dappled the ground, a moist coolness clinging to their skin. They pressed their cheek to the place Noire had kissed and wished their twin had deemed them worthy of the secret promise, curse or no curse, as they once did when they had each been the other’s whole world.

The next morning they were found and returned home, Sabrina arriving perfectly on time to give them the lecture of a lifetime. To this day, no one has been able to come close to the amount of laps they had to run around the compound.

 

Years passed.

The tree grew taller, the twins stronger, and the visits to the glen fewer and farther between. Sabrina took care of the rest of Noire’s… accidents; though those, too, became less frequent as they gained more control.

Eventually, they were supplied with two young Eevees – a boy for Blanche and a girl for Noire. Sabrina smiled and said they were a gift from an old friend, meant specifically for the twins. Noire, of course, almost had a heart attack upon seeing them and spent the next week cooing over the balls of brown fur. Blanche, who was totally not jealous  _thank you very much_ , could often be found curled up next to the trio reading a book on evolution or dozing in a sunbeam.

The tree bore witness to the Eevees’ names, just as it had done for the renaming of the twins.

Claire to Blanche, Blanche to Noire. The lowest to highest, the highest to none – the failure that needed to be a success, and the success that wanted nothing to do with the achievement. As if changing their names really fixed anything.

Still, it was quiet, for a time.

Then, seemingly out of the blue, Willow arrived and offered Blanche a place at his lab as his assistant.

The decision gnawed at them, Noire could tell. Though, to be fair, one only had to have a functioning pair of eyes to see that much. They paced in their room, mumbled under their breath, and almost knocked their physical education trainer unconscious with a reflexive roundhouse kick to the head when they were spacing out during practice.

They both had hope that the glen would offer them solace.

It did not.

“I don’t even want to go!” Blanche declared stubbornly. Noire resisted the urge to sigh and peered up at them from where they lay sprawled on a mossy boulder at the base of the tree. Their twin sat on a lower branch, back resting against the main trunk as they propped one leg up and let the other swing freely. A book rested in their lap, opened but unread.

“Yes, you do,” they said, rolling their eyes, “Otherwise, it wouldn’t bother you so much.”

Blanche glared at them for a moment before huffing. “Why me?” they asked, voice softening, “Why not you?”

“Why  _not_  you?” Noire retorted, frowning. “You’re just as good as anyone.”

“Exactly! Willow could’ve chosen  _anyone_ , so why-”

“Do you really need a reason that badly, Blanche?” They couldn’t help the anger that crept into their tone. It wasn’t directed at  _them_ , not really, but at the bastards that had shaved down their twin’s self-worth to the point that even now, after years of being free from their clutches, they struggled to see themselves the way others did.

As someone of importance.

Blanche jerked back at their tone and looked askance. It hurt to see, but what was worse was the growing sense they were right about what was going on.

Noire had forged ahead, taking their liberation from Cipher as a sign that they could start over, that maybe one day they could come to terms with their past transgressions and have a cause worthy of using their powers for. That the cause would likely be for Team Rocket went without saying, but at least they were given the  _illusion_  of a choice now. Yet, as they were busy becoming their own person, Blanche had settled for just becoming a person capable of being around Noire.

It wasn’t healthy. God, did they love them for it, but they couldn’t sit idly by and watch their twin destroy themselves.

(Not yet, anyway.)

“I’m honored Willow wants me to work with him. It’s an amazing opportunity! But… I…”

“You’re scared.” Noire said the words softly yet their twin still flinched. They got up from their rock, not bothering to dust themselves off, and went to stand next to them. The branch was just high enough that they had to look up at the other. “Why? You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Blanche looked away, mumbling something incomprehensible under their breath. Noire huffed and pinched their thigh, blocking the blow they instinctively retaliated with. “What was that? I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Their twin scowled down at them, then relented. “I said I’m scared of leaving you alone!”

“Oh. I see.” Noire’s breath caught in their throat, pain lancing through their chest as a million different insecurities chased the words as they bounced around in their head. They swallowed, willing their lips to move. “I… I don’t want to hold you back, Blanche. Not ever.”

“You ground me, Noire,” they said, apologetic already, “You always have.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to keep you grounded.” Their smile was genuine despite the agonizing bitterness that was brewing inside their heart. They intertwined their fingers, feeling Blanche’s tremble against their own. “Fly high,  _mon petit chou_.”

( _Fly high so that I may be the one to bring you down_.)

Noire tied together one of their red hair bands with Blanche’s blue ribbon and let it dangle from one of the lower branches. The two of them watched it sway in the breeze, hands held tightly together, breathing deeply and feeling each other as easily as they did themselves – content to simply exist in the other’s presence.

They practiced their goodbyes in front of the tree, thinking it would make the departure easier, but in the end each felt like a piece of themselves had been ripped out.

Blanche called them as soon as their flight landed. The connection was bad, static muffling their words, but Noire felt lighter just hearing their voice. They thought, perhaps, the distance between them wouldn’t be so bad if they could listen to them breathe, could drown themselves in the comforting way their words fumbled around others but never when they spoke to one another.

 

[“I finally found out what family of tree it is, no thanks to you!”

“Oh? What is it, then? Come on, tell me. If you get it right, I might even tell you the genus.”

“You know the- Of course you do. Fine, it’s in the family  _Oleaceae_ , like the lilacs outside our room.”]

 

Then, as if she had been waiting for this for a long time, Sabrina told Noire their twin’s future.

“No!” They stood in the center of the room, trembling. Fiery sunlight streamed in from the wall of windows, illuminating the woman before them from behind, her dark hair haloed in gold. “You’re lying- That can’t be true!”

“I have never once lied to you, Noire,” she replied calmly, “You know this.”

“Blanche- If I’d known-” Noire grit their teeth, balling their hand into fists by their side. “I  _never_  should’ve let them go!” They turned on their heel, intent on leaving, but found themselves stuck in place by an eerie glow. The glare they threw over their shoulder at Sabrina was the definition of poisonous.

“What will you do?”

“Change the future!” they spat, struggling to break free of her power, “Something you’re too much of a  _fucking coward_  to-”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?!” Her expression twisted, betraying her deep anguish for a brief moment before she collected herself. “The future can change, yes, but not for them. In every path they take, Blanche  _will be chosen_. That much is not up for debate.”

“So what?! I can’t just sit back and let that _thing_ -”

“You won’t. You haven’t.” Sabrina took a deep breath, releasing her hold on them.

Noire turned back to face her, expression hard. “Speak clearly,” they demanded, “For  _once_ _!_ ”

“In all the countless futures I have seen over the years, Blanche becomes bound to the Titan of Ice. But-” her voice dropped slightly as she inclined her head, “Not all futures have them survive the process. If you had not pressured them decide to leave, to go with Willow, they would have been lost.”

Noire’s face fell. “I… I was trying to help.”

“You  _did_  help them, Noire,” she assured them, her voice staying gentle, “And you will continue to help them. By sending Blanche away, you’ve set them on the path that will help them grow strong – strong enough, perhaps, to survive the bond.”

 “And then what? They’ll have to spend the rest of their life playing _puppet_ to-”

“And _then_ , when the time is right, you will take the Titan from them and _save_ their life.”

The silence that followed was a resounding one. 

“How will I know?” Their voice was low with anger, with scorn, with determination. “How will I know when the time is right?”

Sabrina crossed the room to stand in front of them.

“You will look into their eyes and see a light, one that does not belong to them – one that shines  _through_  them,” she said, lifting their chin to stare into their eyes, taking in the tears glittering on their cheeks with a carefully expressionless face, “And you will snuff it out.”

“… I can’t tell Blanche about this, can I?”

“What do you think? As they are now, do you believe Blanche would be strong enough to fight tooth and nail for a chance at life they don’t believe themselves worthy of?” Sabrina lifted her chin, fire from the dying sun burning in her eyes. “Or do you believe they would despair? That they would simply roll over and accept their fate?”

Noire closed their eyes bitterly, unable to answer, their tears continuing to fall even as she pulled them into a hug.

 

Time passed.

Though Sabrina never instructed them to do so, Noire made it their mission to separate themselves from Blanche as much as possible. It stood to reason, right? If sending them away was going to help them grow strong, the more independent they were forced to become the better. 

It didn’t stop their heart from shattering every time they had to ignore one of their calls, or pretend to not hang on their every word, or even resist the intrinsic urge to text them every hour of every day. What was worse was the way they forced themselves to act when Blanche came home – cold and aloof, disinterested as their twin rambled on about their school and their research and their fellow assistant.

If they couldn’t care about their twin, then why the fuck would they give two shits about some bitch named ‘Candela’?

Noire tried to focus on school, but without Blanche it just never seemed worth the time. They were too smart for their own good, devastating intelligence wrapped in snarky barbed wire, their words often getting them into situations that only their fists could save them from. Their teachers tried to work with them, first out of genuine concern and later out of equally genuine fear of Sabrina, but it was all for naught. Skipping a few grades barely counted as exceptional when compared to their suspension record.

Aggressive isolation became customary, putting distance between themselves and the people around them. Keep everyone at arm’s length - don’t let them in, don’t let them near. Be as abrasive as humanly possible so they’d never have to feel _this_ , this agony reserved only for their twin and their twin alone, ever again.

It went from being an act to a habit to an integral part of their personality – bitterness swimming through their veins and forming a layer of salt on their bones.

When school finally was over (or, at least, when the adults in Noire’s life stopped trying to force them to play nice with a bunch of twats that were so far beneath them) Sabrina took them under her wing. They fought, they trained, and they learned to survive. As their body grew stronger and their mind sharper, their abilities blossomed into a beautiful, terrifying display of everything wrong with humanity’s twisted attempt to rule all the variables in life through sadistic scientific curiosity.

A few times, in desperation and broken panic, Noire reached out to Blanche, words freezing in their throat when they remembered why it was that they were trying to separate from them in the first place. Those calls were stagnant affairs, Noire fumbling for a lie and Blanche being concerned but unable to sense the nature of their true unrest.

When had they forgotten how to speak to their own twin?

Revulsion swept over them. In a fit of anguish, of giddy guilt, they offered a chance for the two of them to run away together - to leave everything and everyone behind, to depend only on each other like they had all those years ago when they snuck out and camped in the glen.

They were only half-serious, a lie they told themselves to hide the desire in their soul.

Blanche had not been impressed. Their beloved research had become worth too much, their devotion to the project and to their new comrades too great that Noire’s plan to hypothetically reconnect was barely considered as a viable option. They never said as much, of course, merely asked for more time so they could make the decision without any regrets.

Noire had given them more than enough space, so what was a little time in the grand scheme of things?

 

The last time the two of them were in the glade together, it was on accident.

Noire walked along the small path that led to the glen, mindless and heart-numb after another silent visit with the tree. Training was hard and they didn’t much care for taking orders. But it was something to do. They jolted when they heard footsteps heading in their direction, bolting into the forest with their gun drawn. Watching the path, barely breathing, they felt their heart stop when they saw a figure in blue approach.

Blanche had grown beautifully, their footsteps quiet but sure being a testament to their continued physical training. They walked with purpose, barely glancing at the forest around them, their long blue coat swishing with every step. Precise movements, fluid grace. A focus that played itself off as inattention.

Oh, how they had  _missed_  them.

Noire stalked their twin, as silent as death, elated when their route became clear. Their heart wanted desperately for them to jump out and greet the other, but something dark and slithering in their veins, not quite instinct, held them back. So, they kept to the shadows and watched.

(Months ago. Rain tapping on the window. Their Eevee sleeping in their arms. The grunt standing right behind them. “ _Don’t sound like you’re the one broken up about this, Noire._ ”)

The new Team Mystic leader strode up to the tree as easy as memory, heels clicking on the rocks. They studied it, expression blank as they slowly reached out a hand to press their palm to the bark.

Silence, stillness.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” their twin said softly, and for a moment Noire thought they’d been seen. Then Blanche’s icy demeanor thawed, ever so slightly, and they smiled. Noire’s heart lurched to their throat and they  _ached_  to see such a fond look to their eyes, even if they knew it wasn’t directed at them.

(“I did it for  _you_ _!_ ”)

“I’m sorry I have not visited in a while – things have been a bit busy,” they continued, moving around the tree slowly, their fingertips tracing the grooves in the bark, “And they will only continue to be so from here on out. In fact, I’m ashamed to admit this might be my last time coming to see you.”

Blanche hesitated, words growing softer still to the point Noire had to strain to hear them. “I’m afraid I’ve broken my promise. Or, that is to say, I broke it a long time ago,” they sighed, resting their head briefly against the tree trunk just above their hand, “I was not able to stay by their side...” Their hand curled into a fist, lips pressing down into a slight frown.

“And I will not be returning to it, either.”

The ache in Noire’s chest spread, air being stolen from their lungs by their twin’s admission.

(“ _Just because we’re growing up doesn’t mean we have to grow apart, Noire._ ”)

 _Liar_.

The Mystic leader moved back, a brittle, bitter look in their eye as they let out a sardonic laugh. “Not that I ever believed in curses, anyway.”

They turned to leave, resolute, only to pause when a breeze made the old, forgotten ribbon and hair tie dance into their line of sight. The dark blue dye had faded with time, bleached by the sun and rain, leaving it a fair number of shades lighter. The red band, however, remained stubbornly scarlet.

Blanche’s expression mirrored the agony in Noire’s soul perfectly.

“Forgive me,” they whispered, ducking their head and making their way out of the glen.

Noire stayed crouched in the bushes for some time, barely breathing, then rose and walked to the tree. They laid their hand over where Blanche’s palm had pressed, looking out toward the path in the direction their twin had disappeared, the image of their back burned into their mind.

All this time, they’d thought _they_ were leading the charge, the one that set the pace. But, somehow, Blanche had managed to run ahead of them. Their surprise was tempered by a deep, uneasy anxiety that filled their heart and soul, a giddy madness that had been building for years waiting to be unleashed.

Noire’s hand curled into a fist, mimicking the gesture made only moments ago by their twin, a feral grin splitting their lips.

Now, the chase was on.

 

 [“Very good! Here’s your reward: it’s in the genus  _Fraxinus_.”

“An ash tree? Seriously? That’s kind of lame.”

“It’s  _not_  lame! Do you want to know why?”

“Tell me!”]

 

Their first mission as squad leader was a success only by technicality. To everyone else that wasn’t a spreadsheet on a computer, it had been a total failure. Blinded by their anguish, by their need to catch up, they had put their life and the lives of their squad members on the line all for what amounted to an adult hissyfit – Sabrina’s words, not theirs.

(“I don’t care. I never asked for a squad. None of you are the one person I want to work with.”)

For weeks, Noire agonized over the events of that night and the effect it had on the people that were present for them – the brutal murder of the Team Flare agents, the deeply scarred squad members, the stupid, brilliant woman they knew only by name that had saved their life.

Naturally, they dogged Amelie’s heels, unsure if it was due to guilty obligation or a misdirected swell of protective instincts.

Both were likely.

Perhaps they were looking for a way to pay her back – for knocking them out of the way or finally knocking some sense into them, Noire couldn’t say. She didn’t seem keen either option, honestly, but let them stay near her for reasons they couldn’t understand but were grateful for.

Stiff at first, they were delighted to find that the redhead lived up to her hair color’s feisty stereotype. Amelie didn’t allow them the luxury to stew, and most certainly didn’t suffer them to let their self-pity rot them from the inside out. If they had time to laze about and feel sorry for themselves, they had time to train, or review their briefing notes, or for Arceus’ sake delete that folder of Eevee photos it’s taking up half the hard drive!

Amelie was witty and not afraid to speak her mind, her scathing retorts earning her as much respect as they caused offense. She didn’t allow them to shove her away, nor did she let them cling. Well, not without a lot of grumbling. She forced them to understand teamwork, to learn, slowly and painfully, how to rely on someone not bound to them by blood.

She was very likely their first real friend – their very best one, in fact, because why else would she put up with their shit?

(What they didn’t know, couldn’t hurt them – not until much, _much_ later, at least.)

All of this meant that, when they found out that they would still be promoted to the rank of Executive, Noire was more than a little amicable to making Amelie their second-in-command.

But first, the two of them needed to pay a visit to the tree.

“This place is special to me,” they told her, dropping down onto their rock near the base of the tree. Amelie remained standing, peering into the trees around the area with more caution than necessary. They couldn’t blame her, though. Her other senses must’ve still been trying to make up for her lost eye.

She sat beside them hesitantly, posture stiff. “If it’s special to you, why am I here?”

“Because,” Noire said softly, “it’s a place to be shared.”

Amelie said nothing to that, and they were grateful for the accepting silence. A soft wind blew through, bringing with it the smell of damp soil and wildflowers. It was misting slightly, the sun appearing only briefly from behind the clouds to honey the air around them.

“Do you like trees, Amelie?” they asked.

“I like them well enough,” she replied, looking up at the branches above them, “They remind me of my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?” Noire looked at her curiously and she shrugged.

“They’re old, but they’ll probably outlive us all.”

They laughed, a surprised huff, looking up at the branches as well with a thoughtful expression. The leaves were wet with rain that had yet to truly fall. “Old, huh?” they said, reaching back to dance their fingers on the roots, gloves hiding the true nature of the grooves from their touch, “That just means they have a lot to remember.”

Amelie tilted her head in their direction, red hair catching the rare light and glowing.

“They remember a lot of things we don’t,” they continued, “Dates, impressions, seasons. Everything’s recorded in the rings around their core. They keep secrets and memories… and something even more precious.”

“What’s more precious than a secret or a memory?”

“A promise.”

It became an initiation of sorts after that. Every member of Noire personal team was brought before the tree. Not all of them understood why their new boss wanted to bring them to a secluded glen in the middle of a wild forest, but all were at least smart enough to keep it to themselves. No one could find their bodies this far from the city, after all.

Most were also just stunned into silence when they were introduced to a seemingly unimportant bit of forest flora.

 

More time passed.

They trained, they grew stronger, and finally, _finally_ it came time to put their new title to good use.

To say Noire reentered their twin’s life with a bang was a gross, ironic understatement. It earned them a burn mark on their chest and possibly a micro fractured rib or two (fuck that Valor bitch in particular for interfering in a fight that most definitely didn’t concern her), but the look on their twin’s face had been worth it. Amelie and the head of their medical team, Syric, had disagreed.

They didn’t understand, no one could - the angry, pained, _wild_ look to Blanche’s eyes meant the world to them.

Then, prophetic as anything, a new contender showed up. Noire had planned, nay, even counted on having to dance through fire to reach their twin as kicking dirt on flames would be fun as hell when the woman that commanded them was such a focus for Blanche’s attention. Candela was a foe they relished finally meeting, for all the frustration she had caused Blanche when they were younger, when they had to pretend not to care until it before it became reflexive.

But things never went the way they planned, and a storm had definitely not been on the horizon when last they checked was suddenly standing before them in a black tux. They danced, they talked, and Noire got the feeling there was something lurking beneath the surface in the man with the golden hair and brilliant grin. The new team leader would be a nuisance to be sure.

Even still, they brushed him off as impulsive, underprepared, and ultimately not worth their time.

Blanche was what was important. The light, the horrible light they’d been waiting years to see, had yet to appear in their beloved twin’s eyes and they were getting impatient. Securing the lure was the first step in many that led to the first showdown, the first impact, and the next few months were dicey at best and absolute chaos at worst.

But giving half of Opal City’s finest an alcohol addiction was worth it.

They weren’t there when it happened, on that fateful winter morning, when the last of the three Titans chose its bonded. But they came soon after, grinning and glaring and conquering.

An ambush years in the making.

Blanche had changed, they realized, a low burn starting in their gut and crawling up their spine when the Mystic leader released all of their Pokemon just so they wouldn’t be taken. Noire had to act quickly, otherwise, the frosty being now resting heavily in their mind, scaring their soul, would steal Blanche away from them regardless.

"I know you still have _one_ Pokemon left that you don't need a Pokeball for," they crooned, squatting down so they could tilt their twin's head up, tracing the cuts and bruises on their face lovingly before checking for the light, disappointed but unsurprised by its absence, "Summon it."

"I'd rather _die_ than let you take it!" Blanche spat, causing the words _'You'll die if you **don't** '_ to rest heavy on Noire's tongue, unspoken for the interruption bathed in fire.

Candela had finally arrived.

Perfect. They had expected her, looked forward to throwing her around as easily as they had their twin. She smoldered beautifully and they were sickened by how good Blanche looked as she cradled them in her arms. Clever woman knew better than to summon her Titan in front of them – but it was no matter. They had planned to take both in time.

Funny, as there was a saying about the best laid plans.

The third leader came onto the scene late, as per usual, with no form of backup save himself. Noire heckled him, smug, emboldened by his apparent incompetence. But that proved to be just enough to secure their defeat. Really, the taste of ozone should’ve been their first clue, followed quickly by the second clue in the form of a fist shattering the pillar next to their head in a spray of sparks and cement.

His smile, they discovered, was also _wild_ and Noire realized no amount of training could have prepared them for Spark.

Their only consolation was that Blanche sent them pity flowers while they recovered, a small bouquet they nearly killed a nurse for accidentally almost throwing away. They dried the blossoms and pressed them into a book they hid under their mattress. Sometimes they would open the pages and press their face to the petals, chasing the fragments of scent that clung to them.

Lilacs had always been their favorite, after all.

 

Months passed in a paradox of _too quick, too slow_. There were multiple skirmishes between Team Rocket and the Go Program teams, because of course there were, though none reached the level of destruction of the last one. Put up walls, leap over them, steal inconsequential things and break items that would’ve been replaced anyway – back and forth in a pointless underground guerilla war with no end in sight.

The two groups circled each other, wary and watching and waiting, and the city held its breath.

A farce of false-peace settled as the dust was cleared away from the wreckage and Noire could only roll their eyes at how stupid everyone seemed. Only fools clung to the idea that the world could be anything but spectacularly fucked up.

Speaking of fools - Spark, they found out, didn’t give up easily.

They bumped into each other more and more and, frankly, Noire preferred interviews with him to just about anyone. At least then there was less a chance of Amelie bitching at them for the burn marks left in the interview room. Or a sixteen-hour soppy movie marathon as they tried to project the agony in their chest that their twin’s chilly presence left with them onto fictional characters rather than deal with it themselves.

He caught them off-guard, pulled them into a devil’s dance that neither of them took seriously. That suited Noire just fine.

Let him in, let him closer, let him think he’s winning you over so he won’t see the knife before it slips between his ribs. But, when they looked down, months later as they sat watching some shitty show together in his apartment at three am, the world going fuzzy with TV lights and exhaustion and something brewing in their chest that they didn’t dare examine closer when they took in his blond hair and scruffy cheeks sitting just within reach, their blade was gone.

Noire never had nightmares when he was near and that alone scared them worse than anything.

 

[“There are two common varieties of ash that do well here: white ash and black ash.”

“… Which is it, then? Black or white?”

“That’s the thing – it’s both.”]

 

There he was, one day, standing in the center of the path with his arms crossed as they made their way back from the glen. He tilted his head, grinning, and they felt the urge to knock his face in rise with each passing moment.

“What are you doing here, Instinct? Get lost!”

“Already am, actually,” he chuckled, glancing around, “You seem to be, too, wandering this far onto my turf.”

“ _Your_  turf?” they sneered, “As if! I’ve been coming here for years and have never run into any of your lackeys.”

“Seriously? Geeze, we need to beef up our security.” He shrugged, waving a hand. “I haven’t had the time to scout out here before now, and since it’s so far from the main sectors not a lot of people come through here unless we’re hunting for something.”

“Oh? And what are you hunting this time - whatever’s left of your sanity?”

“Who knows, huh? There’s apparently been a beast roaming these woods that I didn’t know about until now. And if I’m being completely honest, that doesn’t sit too well with me.”

Noire scoffed, rolling their eyes. “Oh, get over yourself! This forest-”

“ _This_ forest was a part of Instinct Reserves long before I became leader.” Spark’s eyes glinted gold. “About twenty years, if you can believe it.” He paused, sniffing, then moved past them back down the path in the direction they had just come. His footsteps had purpose and if it were anyone else they’d laugh for the way he seemed to be following their scent – but, this was _Spark_ , so it was an actual possibility.

They followed him without a second thought.

When the two of them made it to the glen, Noire was struck briefly by the rightness of it. Spark walked right up to the tree and they stayed on his heels, glowering but surprisingly silent. He pressed a palm to the bark, tilting his head, a wry grin twitching on his lips.

“You and Blanche came here a lot, huh?” he said, glancing their direction, “It’s important to you?”

Noire met his gaze and nodded, watching as his grin became softer, more understanding. Their heart crawled up their throat to see such an expression on _his_ face of all faces, in _this_ place of all places. The moment lasted only the span of a single breath, then Spark looked up and started to hoist himself up the braches above them.

“What are you doing, asshole?” they snapped, tugging at his jacket, “Get down from there!”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to climb this thing?” he asked, peering down at them.

Noire couldn’t remember a single time they had, and it must’ve shown on their face because Spark’s wild smile widened. He tugged on the branches again, shoes scraping along the bark.

“Come on. I’m sure the view is even more beautiful up there!”

They looked down at their spot, leaves obscuring the soft moss that had grown over their favorite rock. The ground was sure to be cold and hard with autumn’s chill. One last look, then they rolled their shoulders and started climbing after him.

If the dumbass got hurt, they’d have a pissy lightning god to contend with.

An ache settled in their chest when Spark’s foot touched the curved arch where Blanche had once sat, back all those summers and winters ago, but he only used it as a crutch to climb even higher. They avoided the limb completely.

The branches became thin, reedy things and still the two of them ascended. Noire worried, vaguely, about the possibility of falling to one or both of their deaths. Then Spark helped them up through the top of the canopy, his arm looping around their waist to steady them on the swaying branch, and they forgot to think at all.

The world was alight with sunset colors, a smattering of clouds tinted gold in an amber sky. The trees around them reflected the warm tones, leaves glistening umber and maroon in the light as they rustled from a stray breeze. Along the horizon the sky turned pink and then purple, the mountain range spearing the sky as dark forms, the crags on their faces highlighted in bronze. The city in the near distance glittered, silver skyline reflecting the light, and even further still the sea shone with dark, choppy waves.

“It’s pretty great, right?” Spark said, his voice hushed.

They turned to look at him, to scold him for his unnecessary comment, only to be struck dumb once again. His smile gleamed, white teeth glittering in the dying light. Half his face was carved out of fire, crimson and orange and yellow cutting warm shapes on his brow and cheek. The other half was in cool shadow, violet and blue hues adding a chilly contrast to the light. His eyes glinted gold in the moment before they slid shut, Spark tilting his head with a fond sigh as he soaked in the last of the day’s rays.

Red and blue and yellow. Those colors had more sway over him than any others in the world – which was just as well since they had made it this breathtaking in the first place.

Noire was reminded suddenly, bitterly, that they had never had anything to call their own.

(Not even themselves.)

 

A rematch happened, another ambush set up for the Lighting Titan.

The desperation that filled them for the entire fight nearly choked them, strangling them worse than the blood that slid down their throat to pool in their stomach and rattle their lungs. Broken bones had nothing on a broken heart, and they were almost grateful when Blanche arrived to stop them before it could get any worse. That Valor bitch had come, too, but their twin was the only one that mattered.

(“You know, Blanche used to look at me like that – like I was someone important. Cherished.”)

After everything, they stared down at the discarded blue coat, light bouncing strangely in the cavernous space, the crystals shattering the world into vivid glimmers of rainbowed iridescence. The air was cold, sharp, and each breath was painful - in more ways than one.

("I mean, we're Team Rocket, nobody gives a shit, just-")

The thorn in their side had pierced their heart without them even noticing, and they only really felt it when it had to be removed. They had no doubt that the wound would scar, in more ways than one, but they were fine with the fractals lighting left on their skin. It was one more thing to remind them of how much they needed to do what had to be done.

If there was still time, they'd thank Spark for that much, at least.

("We were friends, Amelie, even though I tried to kill him so many times... We were friends and I had to go fuck it up because it's my _fucking job_.")

 

The next and last time Noire went back to the glen, the world was on fire.

They sat with their back to the bark and watched everything around them burn. Snow fell from angry, thundering clouds, the smell of soot in the air as they stained the rocks with their blood. The city was quiet in the distance, the screams already gone silent.

“Guess I went and broke my promise too, huh?” they murmured, tilting their head back to look up at the broken, barren branches, “I couldn’t… grow strong enough to protect them.” A black jacket hung too large on their shoulders, burnt leather smelling like blood on their tongue as a black eye-patch danced in the frosty air from the only limb that remained intact. 

A tattered blue coat lay spread across their lap, patches of red drying brown.

Their vision swam, though they couldn’t tell if it was more from the blood loss or the tears. 

_“Why are you doing this?!”_

_Heart in their throat, chain clenched in their hand._

_Facing off against the one person they’d always meant to, the one they were destined to defeat. The world condensed to just the two of them, nothing else mattered - nothing had ever come close._

_They’d been training all their lives for this moment - so why was it so damn hard?!_

_“For you!” A vicious snarl on their lips as the blue bled out of their eyes, replaced with a sickly magenta. A sin they could never take back, and act that they would never live to see destroy them, ice spearing their chest as they lost the last thing in the world that made them whole, as they watched the shadows dance in the corner of their vision, obscuring and clouding and **corrupting** \--_

_“It was **always** you…”_

The first three agonizingly lonely minutes at the start of their life had nothing on the last thirty. As far as curses went, this had to be the worst of them.

Noire breathed out, lungs rattling and making the sigh morph into a coughing fit, staring at the red spray that coated their hand. There would be no medic to stitch them back together now, no large hand to keep them grounded to the hospital bed while they mended, palm cool on their forehead with fingers that ruffled their bangs.

The snow was falling harder, mixing with black and grey sludge from the smoke pillars on the horizon. Lightning flashed, blinding as the sun that could no longer shine, thunder soon following like a wounded beast’s roar.

They wanted to laugh, but there was suddenly no air.

“In the end, was it worth it? Did you fly?”

The sound of beating wings surrounded them, the earth shaking as a complete set of smoky black figures landed. One stood taller than the others, but its spine was just as bowed, just as tense with wrath that only an empty chest could contain. Four pairs of eyes, glazed and glowing magenta, shadows shifting in the bleak light, stared at them. Awaiting orders.

Noire smiled, a grimace with red teeth, unable to feel the new brands on their skin over the shrieking in their heart and head.

Over the splintering of their soul.

 

[“Oh, it’s a hybrid!”

“Yes. There’s a piece of each inside it, together forever.”

“Like us,  _mon petit chou?_ ”

“Like us,  _mon chou_. Always.”]


End file.
